


To lovingly yeet

by temis



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Romance, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25832896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temis/pseuds/temis
Summary: Joe yeeting Nicky - because sometimes that's needed.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 44
Kudos: 213





	1. Prayer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aglassfullofhappiness (mehmehs)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mehmehs/gifts), [historynut101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/historynut101/gifts).



The first time it happened, neither could have known it would become a (loving) habit.

Outside the walls of Jerusalem, Yusuf hunted his counterpart, the Frank somehow having escaped him during the chaos, death and carnage. And if he killed more than his own share of the enemy and died a few times while searching for the other man, well, it was not his fault, was it?

When he finally found him, rage filled his veins like liquid ice. The Frank was kneeling (praying?) on his knees, his longsword sticking out of the blooded ground, in the middle of an ocean of corpses. It was impossible to differentiate if the dead were enemies or allies, blood, mud and shit turning his stomach (had he killed a company of Yusuf's colleagues while he was lost in the battlefield? Were those innocents or more of the Frank's fanatic brethren?), as did the idea of associating God, any God with the slaughter he saw. Yusuf came closer and in a fluid move, kicked the Frank out of his position, sending the longsword to him in a hand movement. He wouldn't kill a man on his knees, and defenseless, but the Frank did not deserve more than that from him - as soon as he was on his feet, Yusuf advanced, his sword being parried by the hilt of the longsword, both of them going back to their cycle of death and reborn life.


	2. Bath

Never would Yusuf think when he had arrived in Jerusalem that one day he would travel with one of his enemies. After the fall of the city, their exhaustion and the complete incapacity of dying or killing - the admission they were similar (same dreams, night after night to the point he only sometimes saw the pair of women his travelling companion dreamed of - he could have sketched the Frank blind now) to each other after seeing the Frank (Nicolo, his name is Nicolo) weep at the state of the city when his fellow crusaders took it after the siege, the sight an acid in his throat, nausea and bitterness (relief) mingling in his senses, paralyzed in front of such an abomination that he couldn’t prevent (why give such a gift to him, when he could not even protect what he had dedicated himself to?) until Nicolo dragged them out of battlegrounds, taking him away from the pestilence of death, rape and the scent of bodies left to feed carrion.

Their communication was simple, syntax and order lacking while they tried to grasp the words to talk to each other and if necessary, mimic. In one of these occasions, he had made Nicolo laugh with his exaggerated motions to indicate a camp of Franks they should avoid, Nicolo’s fine downturned mouth opening in delight and taking a sliver of his heart away with it, his breath caught and smile frozen in his lips as he looked at his companion. It became easier each day to recognize beauty in Nicolo, their walls broken through routine living and their understanding of each other. 

It still did not excuse his reluctance to wash though. They had passed a river a week ago, and Yusuf had been sure to dive and clean himself thoroughly, washing away the grime accumulated in his body. So what wasn’t his surprise when Nicolo had only taken out his armor and had not left the riverbank, only his hands being in the water that he cautiously used to wash his face. Frowning, Yusuf thought he was standing guard while he washed and gestured to the water as he got out, so that Nicolo knew he could take his turn and he would be alert in case they were surprised. Nicolo’s actions - putting back his gloves and turning away, as if he was ready to keep going was enough for him to realize two things: the bath had restored his sense of smell and Nicolo desperately needed a bath that he didn’t seem keen to get. In one smooth move, Yusuf grabbed Nicolo’s tunic, unbalancing and then throwing him into the water, clothes and all. When he emerged, Nicolo was a bit dazed. Yusuf DID NOT let him out of the river until he was satisfactorily non smelling. 

It was the first, but not last time Yusuf did this. After they got enough language to talk to each other, it was a constant source of gentle ribbing that Nicolo had to be taught to bathe regularly.


	3. Before battle

“Nicolo? Light of my life, my heart out of my body, are you listening to me?” Yusuf deliberately waved his hand in Nicolo’s direction, wondering if his sun would even respond. Sometimes Nicolo was caught in these hyperfocus moments (hours and days), and wouldn’t move or talk beyond the absolutely necessary

“Of course my love, I always listen to you. Your voice is the only one that makes me want to wake in the morning and the only sound I live to hear” - and in moments like this one, when they were utterly alone, Nicolo reminded Yusuf why he lived and died and lived again for this man - this man who refused to tell such words to the world, not out of shame, Nicolo had shown him and the world with actions more than once he was not ashamed of their love, but because Nicolo’s loving words were only for Yusuf’s ears and no one else. Yusuf had tried more than once to limit himself like Nicolo did, to reserve it for their time only, but they bubbled in his heart and dripped from his lips unconsciously, like a creek passes through its path without stopping.

He had to take a minute or two to compose himself again, heart still beating from his Nicolo’s words. “My love, my ray of light, my hope beyond the abyss and master of my heart, I know you are still reading, but the battle is tomorrow - and you need to take care of yourself. Beloved, being hungry before battle is not good.” reaching down into the chair Nicolo is seated, Yusuf nuzzled his face into the crook of Nicolo’s neck, feeling his shivers as he spoke directly into his ear. He expected a reaction - Nicolo finally getting up, perhaps discarding his book - but instead his light seemed to harden himself - determinedly turning back to his book. “A day is not going to hurt me, my love” A day. As if. He would be fussy (he couldn’t deny) if it was just a day, but Nicolo had already skipped yesterday lunch and dinner, and it was already past lunch. In the kitchen, the food was stored in the pans and he had eaten when he realised his moon would not be parted from his book. 

Reaching a fast decision, Yusuf laid a gentle kiss on Nicolo's hair, before going to the living room, dragging the comfy couch to the kitchen, near enough the table. Even with the noise, Nicolo didn’t react, immersed again in reading. Now that everything was ready, Yusuf quickly took his love’s book from his fingertips, and before he could react in surprise, took him in his arms before tossing Nicolo on the couch.

“Star of my life, you need to eat. I am sorry that I must take such an action, but I will not stand by while you castigate yourself like that. Eat.” and having said that, Yusuf put food into Nicolo’s plate, so he could eat while on the couch. After that, his lover was more careful about taking care of himself, so that Yusuf didn't need to take drastic action.


	4. The time Nicky yeeted them to safety (or a less painful death)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm extremely sleepy right now and not exactly coherent - if there are any mistakes, tell me and I will fix them tomorrow. Hope anyone who started this little journey with me enjoys the ending justa s much :)

Even covered in blood and grime, Nicky was still beautiful, the dirty on his body only contrasting with the pure kindness in his soul. If they were not under attack, Joe would have dropped to his knees, to sing of his sun’s warmth, how it was his goodness that inspired him when they were fighting for the freedom of the children in the caves, his care in reassuring the smallest, his attention to any and all of the rescued, and the immediate decision to attract the attention of their pursuers away from them, no matter what.

Their tracks had been left clear and visible, Joe setting up their nest in a nearby hill, according to the path Andy and Booker agreed to use. Nicky shot many of their enemies before they could get close to the convoy with the rescued, being bait and long-distance support at the same time. After a time the mercenaries realised they had to get to the sniper somehow, otherwise there wouldn’t be enough of them left to go after the rest of the group.

Dividing themselves, six came for them, while the rest kept tracking the trucks. The expectation was probably that they would need to decamp and change places before their opponents arrived. Or so they thought. Nicky was disabused of that notion when he saw one of them with a rocket launcher, knowing then that he had given away their position with his last shot. 

Immediately, Nicky let go of his rifle, dragged Joe to him by his coat, embracing him (Joe's eyes going soft - even in the middle of a battle all his focus diverted to him, all his love) and **_yeeted_** himself and Joe out of the window, taking care so he covered Joe with his body - they may still die, but the time it would take to heal would be far be less than if they were full on hit by the explosion.

It hadn't taken long - broken bones and organs healing. Harder to disentangle himself from Joe, to let go even if he knew they could and would be back together again, for weeks, months, years decades and centuries, always together.

"Did you really threw us out Nicky?" Joe cocked his head, features rearranging themselves as if he didn't know what to predominantly feel. 

"What can I say? You have rubbed off me after almost a millennium, beloved" was all Nicky said before stealing a quick peck and arming himself to keep protecting the convoy.


	5. Artwork by theodoresart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Some time ago I won a giveaway from the talented theodoresart on Tumblr, and here it is!!!!!

[ ](https://ibb.co/gd4zDL0)

This was made by theodoresart!! Please follow him on [Tumblr!!](https://theodoresart.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr if anyone wants to talk about the old guard: [Tumblr](https://tocadoguara.tumblr.com/)


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